


Deixado Va

by frahulettaes



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-12-23
Updated: 2005-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:33:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24078301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frahulettaes/pseuds/frahulettaes
Summary: Date Archived: December 23, 2003Pairing: Jack/DanielCategories: AU, First TimeSeason/Episode: Season 4	 	Size: 11kbRating: RWarnings: NoneSpoilers: NoneSummary: Not suppliedRescued from Area52Surprise Sean Bean as Andy McNabb in later chapters. Also, I was watching a LOT of Queer as Folk at the time. Apologies.
Relationships: Daniel Jackson/Jack O'Neill





	1. Chapter 1

Chirp. Chirp. Chirp.

"Jackson."

"Daniel?"

"Hi, Jack."

"Got room in your book today?"

"Hold on...let me look."

Silence.

"Hmmm, not really. What's up?"

"I just really need it today. Can't squeeze me in somewhere?"

Silence.

"I'll have to call you back."

"Thanks, Daniel."

"Only for you, Jack"

Snort.

"Right."

End call.

***

Chirp. Chirp. Chirp.

"O'Neill."

"Jack."

"Please tell me you're coming, Daniel."

"Three O'clock."

Silence.

"Thanks..."

"See you then, Jack."

End call.

***

"Hey, Jack. You look like crap." I can see the pain etched on his face...he's hurting.

"Why thank you, Daniel."

"You should've called earlier. What happened?"

We've been over this before and I know I'm not going to change him so I just take his stubbornness in stride. He almost never calls when it'll do the most good. No. He waits 'till it really hurts.

"I had to carry something really heavy."

"Hmmmm, saving the world again?"

"Something like that."

I begin to unfold my table but he stops me with a light touch. I look over my shoulder at him. He's easy on the eye, all long and lean and silver. And unlike some of my clients, he's not really a talker. I wouldn't say he's shut down, just...reserved. All that time in the Air force probably.

"Let's move into the back." He turns away and I grab my bag and follow him to the back of the house. A long hallway leads to an open sided room surrounded by windows looking out on the Rockies. The view never ceases to amaze me. Who needs art when you have this?

"Where do you want it?" I can't resist a little double entendre.

"Here's fine." He points to the place closest to the bay window. The Sun is pouring in and everything in the room is in natural tones so it's like being outside while your inside.

He's standing at the window, arms crossed, looking out and wearing what he always wears when I come, loose cotton shorts and nothing else. I feel a slither of desire through my belly, I always do, but I shut it down pretty quick. Jack is oh-so-straight. And he has very clearly defined personal space. We banter some and I work on him and pretty much that's it. But I don't lie to myself, he's the star of my fantasies on a pretty regular basis. On my usual date, with my right hand. God, it's been a while.

I put Jimmy Page and Robert Plant's 'No Quarter' on low and the room fills with the quiet sensual strains of the Zep.

He's on the table now and I take a moment to look. He's beautiful and scarred and I try not to think what each white mark and slash means. I hook my thumbs in the waist of his shorts, slide them off and replace them with a towel draped across his butt.

I rub the sandalwood oil into my hands; warming and thinning it then begin at his shoulders, light and soothing. He's wired tighter than a piano string so I begin diving into his shoulder and back muscles, trying to work the kinks out. I work down his back, thumbs on either side of his spine towards the lumbar vertebra and I can see it. The tightness pulled across his lower back, shifting his hips into a slant instead of straight. I work it gently, warming and soothing the muscles, willing them to let go. Like I say, he doesn't make a lot of noise so when he gives a little gasp it surprises me.

"shhhhh. Deixado vل." (let go) I can't help it, sometimes I murmur in other languages to clients and it's very soothing. The first time with Jack I spoke Arabic and that was not soothing. I said. " استرخ " (relax) He said " لا . ليس العربيّة " (no, not Arabic) in a tight, harsh voice. Since then I use Portuguese. It's soft and sounds smooth. What the hell, at least I'm getting use out of that ten years at University.

By the time I get down to his feet, he's a lot more relaxed. I tap his thigh, which is parlance for 'turn over'. He does. I start again at his feet, running my oiled fingers up his calves, working the quads with my whole hand, from the inside out.

I work up across his hips, easing the flexors and transverse abdomens, carefully avoiding the frost of pubes peaking out from the towel. His flat abs lead gracefully to his chest, still firm and strong and I'm not going to say for a guy his age 'cause he's in great shape for any age guy. And I like the silver.

I come around the table and work his shoulders from above his head, stretching and kneading up his neck. He drops his arm down and I work on his face and scalp muscles. Jimmy's wailing away to the sounds of Persian guitars and drums and I can feel my heart thumping in time. I run my hands through his hair, around the crown of his head and back down his neck.

Deep tissue work in the neck and head can be very intense, causing blood to rush down the spine. I've had it happen many times. It makes me shiver. It has never, and I mean never, made Jack shiver. But he's trembling now.

"You okay?" I ask low and my hands never leave him. He makes a moan in the back of his throat, throws his arm over his eyes and grabs my hand. I know what's happening, several clients have tried this before and I'm usually gentle as I redirect them, but this is Jack. I've played this in my head so many times, what I'd do if he ever made a pass at me. I want him to, but God, I want it to be me, not my job. He takes my hand and puts it on his dick and wraps my fingers around the shaft, showing me what he wants. Slow, tight strokes and I can feel the heat burning my fingers. And I just...let it happen. He arches a little, thrusting into my hand. I should stop...I should. But I want it too.

I slide the towel off. The scent of sex gets stronger, his scent, musky and sweaty. I brush my fingers gently from base to tip, he moans and shivers. My hands are dryer, less oily and the friction is hot when I stroke again. In the back of my mind I'm screaming, 'don't fuck this up, don't make this mistake' but that voice is tiny and far away.

Both of Jacks arms are over his head now, grasping the table above his head, eyes shut, mouth grimacing. He's inside the feelings, gone. I'm pressing my dick hard against the table, tugging and stroking him and I let my other hand skim along his chest and over the dark bud of his nipple. His breath hitches and I pass back over it, rubbing a circle with my palm.

"God..." he says through clenched teeth.

"Ssshhh..." I whisper, reassuring. "Let go, Jack" He's safe in my hands, he knows that and I know it. A safe place to fall. He arches, heels digging into the table and I see his balls tighten, I know he's about there. His chest begins to flush, sweat beads on his lip, his mouth opens in a silent scream as he pumps my hand. Come jets across his stomach and chest. I keep my grip but still my hand, feeling the pulsing flutter beneath my fingers as his clmax works through him and his breath goes out in a whoosh. I'm still and I realize I'm holding my fucking breath, my pants hot and tight. To fucking tight.

I uncurl my fingers from his softened dick, trailing them along his thigh and reach for one of my towels. Still trailing my fingers, I wipe away the dots of come, breathing in that scent, trying to fix it in my mind. Without thinking I scoop some up and suck it off my finger. Big mistake, it only makes me harder. I drape the towel across Jack's hips and let my fingers trail up his waist and leave him. The absence of his heat like a blow and suddenly, deep breathing isn't enough; I'm aching to come.

Jack hasn't moved, one arm thrown over his eyes, his breathing slow and even. Oh, God. Now what do I do? I'm torn between wanting to kiss him awake and running away and, coward that I am, running away wins.

***

I sit in my car not far from my apartment, slowly banging my head into the steering wheel. At what point did my professionalism fly out the window? When did I become a whore? I should have stopped but I didn't. I don't 'service' clients. I know guys who do and that is just too intimate for me. The tiny voice was right. I fucked it up.

My cell chirps, nearly sending me out of my skin. I dig it out of my bag and look at the number. It's Jack's and seeing it makes my dick hard again. Three chirps. I have to decide if I'm answering. 'God, what am I gonna say?' I hit call and put the phone to my ear.

"What?" I say, my voice tight in my throat.

"Why did you leave?" Jack's voice is quiet.

"I thought we were done."

The line is silent for maybe, five seconds, which feels like a really long time.

"Do you want to be done?"

Suddenly, I'm out of oxygen and I forget every word of English I know. A bubble of laughter threatens, clearly my hysterical response, but I squash it. And it hits me; this is that moment. You know, the fulcrum moment, on which your life changes. Between one breath and another; between the question and an answer. I can see the moment stretch before me, spinning lines of consequence like tangled vines around the future and my heart. 'Do I want to be done?'

"No." I can hear my voice, but it doesn't sound like me. I can still smell him on my hands, the echo of his gasps still ringing in my ears. I don't want to be done, I want to start over.

Sometimes, when you tell the truth, it feels like dying. Sometimes, when you hear the truth it feels the same. And something does die, whatever went before, cascading away unseen. And no matter what you do, you can't get that back. I was right on the knife edge, wanting to rewind time to the comfort of all that went before, and wanting to fly over the edge of this new possibility. When I got up this morning, I didn't know I'd be thinking these thoughts or making this kind of decision.

"Daniel?" Jack's voice drifted into my thoughts. I must have been quiet for a while. I sit in my car, eyes closed, head on the steering wheel but all I can see is that windowed room and Jack.

"Jack."

"Come back." I feel the words wander through me, drift in my head, settling. I just want to know one thing.

"To finish the job?"

"Daniel..." He sounds...hurt.

"I have to know. Why now, Jack? Why me?" Waiting for his next words feels like hell.

"Daniel..."

"I'm not a whore, Jack. I won't..."

"I don't want to pay for sex, Daniel. Please, let's not do this on the phone. Come back."

"Why."

"Because. I want..."

"What?"

Silence.

"You're gonna make me say it, aren't you? Dammit."

"Two years, Jack, you've been my client and not once have you asked for more."

Silence.

"Danny..."

It's my turn for silence. He's never called me that. No one calls me that. I hate that name. But, oh, how he said it. Soft and hoarse and raspy. Now I'm the one shivering.

Ever had that experience of driving somewhere and not remembering driving? How scary it is to think you weren't paying attention and how hard it is to trust that because you did it, it could be done and you're okay?

Yeah, that's what it felt like.

Fin


	2. Toque

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Date Archived: January 26, 2004  
> Pairing: Jack/Daniel  
> Categories: AU  
> Season/Episode: Season 4 Size: 12kb  
> Rating: NC-17  
> Warnings: Language  
> Spoilers: Absolute Power  
> Summary: Not Supplied

"I'm not a whore, Jack. I won't..."

"I don't want to pay for sex, Daniel. Please, let's not do this on the phone.

Come back."

"Why."

"Because. I want..."

"What?"

Silence.

"You're gonna make me say it, aren't you? Damn it."

"Two years, Jack. You've been my client and not once have you asked for more."

Silence.

"Danny..."

Now---------------------------------

"Danny..." I said again, holding the phone to my ear but he was gone. I wanted to crawl through the damn phone and inside his skin but he wasn't fucking there.

Damn it. Shit. I snapped the phone shut, threw it at the sofa and followed it; face down, burying my head in the pillows. He was there when I closed my eyes, when I opened my eyes, when I slept, ate, worked. For two long years.

Flashback----------------------------

"Uh, hi. I'm Daniel." He held his hand out to me. Goddamn. It took me a minute. I stood in my own doorway and just stopped breathing.

Goddamn.

"Are you Jack? Do I have the right address? I..." He backed a step to look at the house number or whatever. I panicked.

"Yeah, you got it." Oh, man. He was a combination of hunk meets geek boy. Yeah, he had it all. And what was wrong with me?

I don't do 'love at first site'. Okay, not love. Maybe lust. Yeah, lust, definitely lust.

"Oh, great. I'll just..." and he pointed to the door, "bring my things in." He didn't move, just looked over his glasses at me, waiting.

"Sure." I stepped back and he walked into my house.

That was the beginning.

Now----------------------------------------

The sound of a car door slamming jerked me off the sofa. I stood and listened hard for a step on the gravel or leaves rustling underfoot.

I cocked my head, closing my eyes and filtered the out the house sounds; worked through them, sorting and eliminating.

The car door was too close to a neighbor's.

I went to the front door and stood a foot away, trying to hear again. I put my hand on it and I just knew.

I knew he was standing on the other side of the door. And it was such a fragile barrier, wood, glass and paint. The dead bolt.

Dead bolt. Now 'there' was an oxymoron. I wanted him to knock, wanted some sound, even a breath, to give me an excuse to open the door.

Shit. Fuck that. I opened the door.

Flashback----------------------------

"Todd told me about some of your injuries but I'd like to hear how you describe them."

We sat in the living room, opposite each other. I gave him my litany of injuries; bad knees, back, and several healed broken ribs.

A neat, precise little report, twenty-five words or less. Fraiser would've been proud.  
"O-kay. Now tell me about your injuries. Describe them for me." He was working me, not taking any of my crap.

And I liked him for it. He didn't seem afraid of my crabby old Colonel act. I relaxed a little.

Now--------------------------------

The door stood open, the only barriers now were air, clothes and breath. I didn't have to pretend anymore so I really looked at him. No, not looked. I raked him, fucked him with my eyes. God, he didn't even flinch, instead he closed the distance, walked right up and stood inches away and returned my look.

Heat shimmered across my chest down to my groin. His heat. I was beyond words. He was here, in my face.

His head tilted, taking me in, lips parted, eyes lidded, and I took his mouth, zero to sex in half a second.

I don't know if he shut his eyes or sighed or moaned and frankly, I didn't care. I only knew he returned the kiss with his whole body, tongue curling and fighting mine.

I felt his hands on my face, pushing me away.

"Jack."

"Yeah."

"You didn't answer my question."

"Yeah, I did."

"Jaaaack."

He was panting, quick little breaths and I kissed him again, kissed those soft, full, ripe lips. It was hot and wet and messy.

I stuck my hand in his pants and grabbed him by the waistband, broke the kiss and turned down the hall, dragging him behind me. He didn't resist.

Flashback---------------------------

He was wearing that tee again. A tight little sky-blue tee with 'rough ride' on the front stretched across the expanse of his chest.

My pulse jumped. It clung all the way down his flat belly, just brushing the top of his jeans. Jesus. That should be fucking illegal.

It was just as well I would be face down on the table. It was gonna take me a minute or two to get control even with my years of training, thank you Uncle Sam. I slid across the padded table top, wriggling to the center and caught a glimpse of his backside. Hmmm, Lucky Brand, he must do pretty well at this. Low rise. I could see a little curl of ruddy hair peeking out above his waistband at the small of his back. My dick pulsed and I smashed it between my belly and the table, relishing the momentary friction. I could wait. Would wait. In a minute those hands, covered in sweet oil, were gonna rub me so good. And when he'd packed his stuff and left, I would have some really nice sex with my right hand.

Now--------------------------------

"Fuck!"

"C'mon, c'mon."

"It's slippery."

"Give it to me, I'll do it."

He grabbed the condom pack and ripped it open with his teeth, spitting the top to the side.

"Put it on me." Fuck, I almost shot right then with his long, long fingers wrapped around my dick, working the condom down. Shit. Gotta breathe.

"Daniel..." I worked myself closer, put his calves on my shoulders and grabbed the K-Y.

"'s cold..." he hissed at me. Not for much longer, I thought. I put my dick right against his ass, pressed it gently at his hole and looked at him.

"Now." He snarled hooking his hand around my neck and dragging me down, smashing our lips together and I slid into him with one, long, deep stroke.

"Gaahhhhh...!" he broke the kiss and I felt him buck and squeeze around me.

God, oh God. Jesus, tight. Fuck. He's so tight. Tight and perfect.

"Danny, don't. God...c'mon, relax ...yeah. Oh, yeah. Like that. Oh, Christ..."

"God...Jack."

Flashback------------------------

"I'm sorry, shhhhh," Daniel whispered.

I felt the twist in my gut, the same twist I got when I remembered a dirty, concrete box. Stinking of shit and sweat and fear. I shuddered and his hands stilled, resting on the small of my back. 

"Do you want me to stop?" Whispering, again. I felt the heat of his hands resting on me and thought of him stopping. My reaction subsided a little, the fear receded and I knew I wanted him to stay.

"No. Don't. Just...not Arabic." I wasn't looking at him, my voice sounded distant and hard. I didn't want to sound like that, not with Daniel. I wanted to get control. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to forget the sound of Daniel whispering Arabic to me.  
I really, really did not want those two things together in my mind.

Now-------------------------

"Uhhhh, oh God." I was stroking, deep and slow, trying to keep us both on the edge, just a little longer.

Just- slowly out. One- back in. More- god, out. Stroke- shit, not gonna make it. God.

"Daniel...uhnnn. I'm gonna..." oh, God, no more.

I hooked my arms under his shoulders, buried my face in his neck and rammed into him, all the way, deep as I could get. And I flew apart.

Flashback--------------------------------------  
 _  
chirp. Chirp. Chirp._

_"Jackson."_

_"Daniel?"_

_"Who's this?"_

_"It's Jack. O'Neill."_

_"Hi, Jack. Uh, is there...did I miss an appointment?"_

_"No, no, I just wanted to know if you have any time today?"_

_"Hold on."_

_Silence._

_"God, I'm really booked. I might...well, how late can it be?"_

_"Whatever works for you..."_

_Silence. And tapping._

_"Okay, I can do eight. Is that too late? What about tomorrow?"_

_"No, eight is fine. I'm out of town tomorrow and I'm hurtin' here."_

_"Okay, gotcha. I'll see you later then."_

_"Thanks, Daniel."_

_"Only for you, Jack."_

_Snort. "Right."_

_End call._

Now---------------------------------------

"Jack."

"Jack."

"Mmm hmmm?"

"Hey, roll over, c'mon."

I slid to the bed on my side and felt him slide off the bed. Maybe a minute later, I felt him come back. Well, maybe it was a minute. Or maybe an hour. I'm not sure.

"Hey."  
I really didn't want to come back. I struggled to open my eyes, but oh boy, was I glad I did.

"Daniel." Oh-yeah.

"Hi."

"Yeah."

"Take a shower with me." His fingers trailed on my back, down to my hip and thigh. And back up.

"I'll wash you." He said, low and breathy, right against my lips.

Whatever I may have thought about how this would be, how it would be with Daniel in my bed was shattered in that moment.  
He was elemental, like a force of nature and how hackneyed was that? But true.  
He lived in his skin, wore his body so naturally, it took my breath away. I could never do that. But with him, I could get pretty close.

Flashback-------------------------

_  
"It's Jack. I'm not here. You know what to do."_

_"Jack, it's Daniel. Hey I'm outside your house, it's three o'clock on the twenty-fourth and we have an appointment. Are you there? Pick up. Please...okay, I'm off. If you want to reschedule call me at 555-1974. That's my cell. I, uh, I hope you're okay. Bye."_

_"Hey, it's Daniel. Leave a number and I'll call you back."_

_"Daniel, it's Jack. Call me."_

_"It's Jack. I'm not here. You know what to do."_

_"Okay, tag, you're it. 555-1974."_

_"Hey, it's Daniel. Leave a number and I'll call you back."_

_"Daniel, I'm sorry. Work just got really crazy. I'll uh, I want to reschedule. I'm in today, mostly. See ya."_

Now--------------------------------

"I have to go. I have a client at six."

He rubbed the towel over his hair and dropped it around his neck. I watched him walk around my bed, collecting himself, preparing to leave. He looked like a GQ add, straight out of Calvin Klein, boxer briefs and all. He snapped his watch on, buttoned his pants and slid his shoes on bare feet. For a minute I thought he was just going to go. I saw him tuck his shirt in then he caught my eye and I watched him become a predator, eyes hooded, grin feral. He crawled up the bed, eyes on me like I was food, trailing his lips and tongue up my belly and chest. My cock filled and jumped when his lips touched mine. The kiss only lasted for a minute, but when it was done I had no doubts about what had happened today. Or what was going to happen tomorrow. Then I was watching his ass walk down my hall and out my front door.

Flashback--------------------------------

"Jesus, Jack. You're not a kid anymore..."

"Hey, watchit."

Daniel shifted his weight to one hip, rested a fist there and sighed.

"You know that's not what I meant. Damn it. Next time call me. The number is right **here**. Call me **before** you feel this bad."

Damn he was cute when he was pissed. Pissy Daniel. Sexy pissy Daniel. Okay, he can never know how much I enjoy this.

"Roger that. So are we doing this?"

He sighed again and I flopped down on the table, hiding my stupid grin in the crook of my arm.

Later-----------------------------------------------  
 _  
Chirp. Chirp. Chirp._

_"Jackson."_

_"Hey."_

_"Hey, yourself."_

_"I want your email address or are you on an IM?"_

_"Jaaaack. You do know I'm working, right?"_

_"Hey, you're already on the phone, so give it up and I'll let you go."_

_Silence. And tapping._

_"What is that tapping?"_

_"What tapping?"  
"You know, when I ask you for something and it's quiet and then there's tapping."_

_"Ah, that would be my laptop. It's got my life on it."_

_"Negative."_

_"Huh?"_

_"Whatever is on that piece of plastic and silicon is a pale imitation of your life. Of you."_

_Silence. No tapping._

_"Jack."_

_"What?"_

_"Where are you?"  
"On the sofa. Why? You wanna know what I'm wearing?"_

_"Don't move."_

_End call._

__


	3. Margem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Date Archived: January 26, 2004  
> Pairing: Jack/Daniel  
> Categories: None  
> Season/Episode: Season 4 Size: 17kb   
> Rating: NC-17  
> Warnings: Language  
> Spoilers: Absolute Power  
> Summary: Not Supplied
> 
> Rescued from Area52HKH archive

Date Archived: January 26, 2004  
Pairing: Jack/Daniel  
Categories: None  
Season/Episode: Season 4 Size: 17kb   
Rating: NC-17  
Warnings: Language  
Spoilers: Absolute Power  
Summary: Not Supplied

"Danieeeel? What are these?" My housemate, Andy, held a huge bundle of freesias and lilies in front of his face. Great, it's Jungle Andy.

"Oh..." crap.

"They look like flowers. Hmmm. They smell like flowers, whaddya know? They're flowers. So, who's the lucky guy?"

Andy is probably the campiest gay guy I know. Thank god. If I knew any more, I'd kill myself. He's a funny, effeminate stripling of a guy who's even tall than I am. Sometimes I ask myself why I let him live here. I'm still waiting for an answer. Despite his flagrant weirdness, Andy is my friend. At my age, I don't throw people away as easily. I've lost enough to've learned that.

"Andy..."

"Don't 'Andy' me. It makes me cranky. Spill."

I knew, without looking that they were from Jack.

"They're from a client." I tried.

His expression went from inquisitive to obvious disbelief.

"Danieeeel. 'Clients'" and he put the scare-quote fingers up, "don't send flowers. Not your clients, anyway." He looked closer at me. Really close. My face heated up.

"Oh, my God. You got lucky. When? Where? C'mon, it's been a year, two months and twenty-two days since I've seen that face on you. C'moooonnnn," he wheedled.

"You can tell me, my lips are sealed," he made a zip motion across his lips, turned the imaginary key and threw it over his shoulder.

"Not that anyone's counting," I snarked, rolling my eyes. He crossed his arms, shifted his hips and gave me the eyebrow.

"Okay. His name's Jack." I mumbled.

Nervous knots twisted in my stomach. I wouldn't tell him everything because most of it wasn't mine to tell. It wasn't that I didn't want Andy to know, he's like my brother in arms, so to speak. It's just that Jack wasn't 'out'. Not in my world anyway. No, the USAF did not look kindly on its Colonel's fucking guys up the ass. They call it 'conduct unbecoming', an ugly term.

"Jack? Why do I know that name?" he put the 'Doctor Evil' pinky to his mouth, "Hmmmm. Oh, yeaaah." He sashayed towards the phone, showing it off like Vanna White. "The answering machine. Weeelll."

I so needed an answering service. That damned machine was going to be the death of me.

"Andy, please, and I know this will sound funny to you, but please, don't say anything. He's not..."

"Out?"

"Andy..."

"Who would I tell?"

"How 'bout everyone? You're probably composing your blanket email as we speak."

He put a hand to his chest looking completely offended. I knew I'd hit the mark.

"I'm serious, Andy. It's not...safe." His eyes widened, comprehension dawned, the proverbial penny dropped.

"Oh. My. God. Daniel that is sooo...dangerous." Andy quirked an eyebrow at me again. It made him look almost, masculine.

"Daniel," he took my shoulders, making me look into his eyes. "You be careful. Okay?"

You know, it felt really good to have someone understand without lots of backstory. Andy melted my heart when he showed this kind of concern. He made me feel loved. Not lover loved but brother loved. I smiled at him putting my hand on his wrist and squeezed. We kissed, rested our foreheads together and he wrapped me in his arms.

"Oh, sugar. You're such a softy. I don't want to see you get hurt." He caressed my back then pressed a kiss on my shoulder. "And you're such a hottie. Mmm, mmm, mmm." He pushed me away, turning me right then left, looking me up and down.

"It's about time you found someone. Let's celebrate! I know, 'The Door."

He didn't even wait for my answer, just wandered into his room and began throwing shirts around.

"God, not there," I put my head in my hand, elbow resting on the counter. "it's such a meat market." I could barely hear his response from under the shirt blizzard.

He poked his head out of his room, smirking at me. "I'll stop you when you get to the bad part."

"How 'bout O'Malley's?" I looked with fascination at the counter top then up at him.

The look he gave me, completely still, deadpan, said it all.

"So now you're cruising for flyboys? What, one's not enough?" He came out of his room in low-rise black flat fronts, Gucci loafers and a red silk top with one button fastened. Okay, not O'Malley's. He'd be killed on sight.

"No. You're right. 'Tongue 'n Groove'?" I offer.

"Hmmm. Okay, but only if we can take Joe. I hate going there without a hulk."

"Are you saying I'm not a hulk?"

Andy snorted. "We'll call him on the way."

====

"Ooo, stop, Daniel." Andy pointed to the little smoke shop on the corner.

I pulled in, parked and turned off the car.

"Be right back." he hopped out, blowing me an air kiss.

I shook my head smiling and looked in the rear view mirror.

Across the street the parking lot of O'Malley's was packed and a mixed crowd stood outside waiting for tables. I was just putting my hand on the phone to call Joe when silver hair in black leather caught my eye.

Damn, his back was to me. My stomach lurched and suddenly I was desperate to know if it was Jack. But damn it, he wouldn't turn around. He was talking to a pretty blonde woman, not much shorter than him, dressed all in black as well. I looked away. No. Not going to panic. Yet.

Andy climbed back in.

"Here, I got you a...what? Daniel? You look like you've seen a ghost." He looked around and through the back window at O'Malley's. Nothing gets by him, I mean, he may look clueless, but that's an act.

"Oh, my God, O'Malley's, is 'he' there? Do you see him? C'mon let's go look..."

"Andy, drop it, okay?"

I turned on the car and tried really hard to keep my hands from shaking. I didn't even know if that was 'him'. It was probably just some guy out for dinner with his wife. I backed us up, swiveled the wheel and laid rubber going out of the parking lot. I didn't look at O'Malley's. I didn't want to know. And it probably wasn't him anyway.

====

"I'm too old for this. I'm going home. Are you guys coming?" I pulled out my car keys and jingled them in front of Andy and Joe. Pounding dance mixes, dense smoke, naked guys. I was way too old for this and after my little scare earlier, I was ready for a hot shower, Ambien and bed. I really just wanted to be unconscious for about a week.

"You are getting old, honey, it's only one." Andy pinched my ass. I waved him off and tried to look annoyed.

"Catch a cab?" I made my counter offer, hoping he'd take it. I didn't worry about Joe; he's the tall quiet type. We mostly take him so we don't get hassled and he's easy going.

"Cab fare?" Andy rubbed his fingers together in the universal 'cash' motion.

"Andy..."

"I'll pay you back." He batted his eyelashes at me.

"Right." I slapped a twenty into his open hand and kissed them both good-bye.

====

I knew O'Malley's was on the way home. I'd been 'not' thinking about it all night. I'd 'not' thought about going in for a drink. I'd 'not' thought about pinpointing Jack and breaking up his little 'party.' In short I felt restless, unsettled. We'd only had sex a couple of times, so did that mean we were exclusive? It felt that way but it'd never been said. And I had no idea if that guy was Jack.

Who was I kidding? I'm always telling my clients, trust your instincts. Listen to your body. Well, my body was saying 'that was Jack and he was with a woman and you really ought to, no, you owe it to yourself to find out.' O'Malley's was coming up on the right so I turned in. Honestly, what harm would one drink do? They probably weren't even there at one thirty.

I looked down at myself taking a quick inventory. Could I 'pass' at straight bar? Black short sleeved silk shirt, low-rise Lucky's and black loafers. Okay, button the shirt one more. I passed a hand through my hair and hoped I might slip in un-noticed, have a quick look and slip out.

The parking lot was still pretty full; I had to park near the back. I locked it up, ruffled my hair again, trying to disarrange it and frowned at my reflection in the car window.

'Why the fuck was I trying to 'pass' as straight?'

====

I walked into the semi-busy bar and found a seat between an empty and a twenty something girl drinking something orange. I waved at the bartender, gave the girl a brief smile, which she returned with interest, and glanced around the room reflected in the mirror behind the bar. The barman raised his eyebrows at me.

"Vodka, rocks." I said.

He nodded slightly and moved off to make my drink. I looked in the mirror over the bar at the room behind me. It was a mixed crowd, but uneven; there seemed to be three men to every woman. The guys were almost without exception, clean-cut military types. I worked hard at looking without making eye contact. Didn't want any undue attention.

"Pretty quiet tonight."

"Huh? Um, is it?" Twenty something leaned towards me, her low cut top exposing a lot of flesh. I felt her hand on my knee under the bar.

"Till you got here." Her smile was almost feral and it disappeared when I put her hand back in her lap.

"Thanks, I'm...sort of looking for someone." Her smile re-appeared.

"I could change that."

"No. Thanks. Really." Thank god it worked that time.

So much for not attracting attention. I picked up my drink, gave her a small smile and walked towards the billiard room in the back.

It was smokier, dimmer and noisier. Groups of mostly guys hung around the walls; one or two stood at tables or took shots. I smiled a little looking around like I had someone to find, which I did. I passed across the booths lining one wall of the billiards room, one hand in my pocket and found an empty place near the farthest pool table.

A few minutes later I'd finished my drink so I abandoned my glass and made my way back through towards the men's room. Jack was standing at the end of the bar, turned three quarters from me talking to the blonde and a really tall black guy.

I'd hadn't hit on anyone in what seemed like forever, but I wanted to get Jack's attention and let him know I was on to him. I put myself if 'Wade' mode. I made eye contact with him, kept it, walked up, and bumped his shoulder as I walked by. I turned, met his eye again and made a little wave and mouthed 'sorry'. But nothing about my body language said sorry. I gave him my smile, the real one. This only works if you keep moving so I turned back and walked slowly into the men's room. I hadn't paid attention to his companions, I had no idea if they noticed or said anything and I didn't care.

====

I opened my jeans, freed myself and peed in the urinal. Finished, shook myself and buttoned up. The door did not open. It hadn't worked. Oh well, I told myself, better to know sooner than later. Maybe I was his little detour into 'gay land'. My gut was telling me to get out, cover my ass, and get out of dodge. But somewhere around the middle of my chest I felt hollow. I washed and dried my hands, dug my car keys out and left the bar without looking up.

I'd parked nearest near the back, beneath an overhanging Aspen. It was petty but I hoped there wasn't anything on my car. I looked at the hood as I slid the key in the lock and turned it when I was mashed against the door by a heavy hot weight.

Jack pressed against me, a hand on either side, trapping me against the car. My breath went from normal to heavy, my hands where trapped and blood was pumping hard in my dick.

"Jack..."

He put a hand over my mouth. I was right on the edge, teetering between being seriously turned on and fear. What did I really know about this guy? I knew his body, his dick but nothing else. He was covered with scars; career military and I never heard him behind me. How could I have been so stupid? I cursed myself. Jack leaned against my back, hooking his chin over my shoulder and whispered in my ear

"Not a sound."

I nodded and he peeled his hand away from my mouth.

"Put your hands up here." He patted the top of the car. As soon as he eased off I raised my hands slowly, he caught them, pinning them, wrists crossed in front of me. I was hot, terrified, amazed, and embarrassed. His lips came down on my neck near my shoulder, just where Andy had kissed me hours ago. Ages ago. In another life.

He freed one hand and slid it slowly down my chest to my hip, stopping at the waist of my pants. He was moving so slow, so desperately slowly. My pulse was banging through me. His long fingers dipped below the waist of my pants, circling my cock, squeezing and giving me long, tight pulls. My head dropped back to his shoulder. I couldn't make a sound, but my breath came out in ragged gasps. God, I wanted to moan, say his name, something, I was so fucking close.

I swallowed; his hand left me, slid up my stomach to my nipple and rolled it between his fingers then ran his palm over it. I was whimpering inside. His hand wandered across to my other nipple. His lips hadn't left my neck and now I felt teeth as he took a mouthful of muscle and bit me. And I came. Just like a horny fourteen-year-old virgin. Right there, in my pants, pressed against my car.

I was gasping, trying to regain consciousness. Jack's hand slid back down to my fly, and slowly unbuttoned them, one by one. Teasing my pubes, caressing. I wasn't even recovered from my orgasm and he had me hot again. My last button flipped open and he eased my jeans over my ass, stopping at my hip. OhGod. He's gonna fuck me. Right here, in the parking lot against my own fucking car. I felt the scream building, my chest tight. My head dropped forward, rested on his hand, still clasping my wrists tight. His hand was on my ass, sweeping caresses over each cheek, one finger teasing my crack. Ohgodohgodohgodohgod.

After a moment he parted my ass, his cock, wet with lube, pushed up against my hole. I took a deep breath as he pierced me. My world shrank. Only one thing was happening. Jack was fucking me. And that was it.

I felt his hips move against my ass as he rode me. I could hear his breath now, ragged over my shoulder. He was shaking. The movement was so small, just pressing in and in and in. ohgodohgod. Oh yeah, right fucking there. If I had any doubts about coming again so soon, that pretty much killed them. That small, steady pounding on my prostate was making me dizzy with need. It hurt, each pass, so gentle. Pleaseohplease, harder. He wrapped his arm around my waist, moved his head, pressing his forehead against the back of my neck. I was close. He was close. Shaking, gasping quietly. But the pace remained the same. God, his control was amazing. His hand slid down and grabbed my cock, pulling gently and that was it for me, I came hard, silently. I only knew he came because he stilled, deep inside me, balls pressed to my ass.

Sweat made his hand slick where my head was resting. It soaked my shirt where his head was resting. I must've been holding my breath cause after a moment I sighed. His arm tightened holding me while he slid out and I felt a trickle of come. Bareback!?! He fucked me bareback! Shit! God fucking damn it! Shit! Anger surged in me, and I stiffened in his grasp. His arms tightened in response.

"Bareback? You fucking bastard." My snarling whisper sounded too loud in the silence of the parking lot. I was still hazy from sex, anger zinged around in me but he kept me still.

Heart hammering, I strained to free my self.

"God damn it. Let me go." I hissed.

"No."

"Jack..."

"Danny...it's okay. I'm clean."

"That is NOT the point. I wanted to be asked. I would have said yes, but you didn't ask me, Jack. And what if 'I' wasn't clean? You never asked."

He dropped his forehead back down on my neck and was quiet for a long time.

"Daniel, please." His voice thick and heavy with emotion.

I closed my eyes and my heart went 'thunk'.

"You're the only one, Danny."

I gasped again swallowing loudly. Oh, God, I wanted that to be true.

"Let me go, Jack."

I could feel his chest rising and falling against me. He pressed a kiss to the nape of my neck and his arms and hands loosened and I was free. I didn't turn around in his arms. I reached down and pulled my jeans up and buttoned them, and looked over my shoulder. I felt...God I didn't know what to feel. So I turned around and looked at Jack. I wanted to see what I should feel. In the dark of the night his face, shadowed before me, looked empty but it wasn't. I knew that. I reached up to touch, trying to feel what I should be seeing.

"Jack..."

"We should go."

"We?"

"Come with me."

"Um, where?"  
"Home."

"Jack, I have a home."

He closed the distance between us and kissed me. Deeply, tenderly, slowly. I wrapped my arms around his neck and lost myself in his mouth, felt again the sweet languor of afterglow, until we both came up for breath.

"Come home with me, to my house and sleep in my bed. Please." He brushed his lips across my ear, whispering. I knew I was going to say yes. Fuck. No man in his right mind would say no to that invitation. But I had an agenda now.

Fin


	4. Verdade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Date Archived: March 25, 2004  
> Pairing: Jack/Daniel  
> Categories: Established Relationship, AU  
> Season/Episode: Season 5 Size: 22kb  
> Rating: NC-17  
> Warnings: Language  
> Spoilers: The Light, Absolute Power  
> Summary: Not Supplied
> 
> Rescued from Area52HKH archive.

P4X-347

Sometimes I think the Air Force doesn't pay me enough. No, I take that back, they don't pay me enough. Period. Hell, I've been around long enough not to complain, doesn't mean I can't bitch to myself. And Carter. Okay, and Teal'c and Mac. And the longer we sat there, in the den of Goa'uld iniquity, the nastier I got. It's not the stupid light, well, not as much as before. It's more like that a three-day mission became three weeks with one day off in between. One breakfast. One lunch. One dinner. One Daniel.

Damn. I wanted to kill him, showing up like that at O'Malley's. But I didn't kill him. I fucked him. In the freakin parking lot. Without a condom. It was wrong and I knew it. I still know it. And believe me, Daniel let me know it. Before, during and after the rest of that memorable night. But damn, when I thought about that quick, hot fuck, I got a sharp jolt in the balls. Needless to say, I didn't spend a lot of my time on that freakin planet thinking about it. So I got cranky instead. It worked.

And I tried real hard not to think about that morning. About Daniel's smell on my sheets or his leg over mine or how damn good it felt to have someone in my bed again. He wore me out, pulled every ounce I had to give and I think he wanted more. If I could've given him more, I would have. We were a mess, tangled in the sheets, so much skin touching and my stomach lurched. Bad. I thought, at first, that he'd released something in me, and if he had, it would've been a first. Sex does not, you know, bring that out in me. But the longer I lay there the worse I felt, which set off alarms in my head. I was sick. I had to call Frazier. I had to get Daniel out. Every moment that passed I felt worse. I rolled out of bed, I think I pulled on sweats. Daniel was talking to me, making sympathetic noises but I didn't listen. I'm pretty sure I turned into a class 'A' asshole when I told him to get out. The look on his face, even through the shit I was feeling, pretty much said it all.

I barely heard the door slam when he left. By the time we figured out what went wrong and got us all back to the 'crack shack', I was pretty sure Daniel never wanted to see me again. Between the condom thing and the asshole thing, I think I may not be able to pull this one up. Sometimes, when the thoughts spit me back out, I'd get a hard knot in my chest when I thought I might never see him again. So I swore to myself, whatever happened, I'd do anything...and I mean, anything, to get Daniel back.

Days filled with MRE's, report writing and cards with Teal'c and Mac. Sometimes Carter played, when we could pry her away from her laptop. We didn't get back for two more days.

======

Chirp. Chirp. Chirp.

"Jackson."

"Daniel."

Silence. No tapping.  
"Jack."

"Hi, I..."

"No, Jack."

"I haven't even asked anything..."

"Whatever it is, just no. I have to go I'm working."

"Daniel,"

"I'll...um...good-bye, Jack."

End call

=====

"Damn." I hung up the phone.

"Trouble?" Ah, Andy McNabb, first class soldier, friend and nosy bastard. We all gave up calling him Andy five minutes after he hit the base. He just didn't look like one and it was Siler who coined Mac when he stuttered the name out in the control room. Turns out, Siler's a big fan of Mac's since his book came out. Thought he was gonna blow a head gasket when he saw the team roster.

"Hi, Mac. No, just..." I tried not to look as shitty as I sounded. This fell firmly into 'don't ask, don't tell' territory. He gave me a 'don't give me shit' look and closed the door to my office.

"Something I can do for you, Mac?" I really didn't want to talk about it.

"Fuck yeah, there's something you can do. You've been a right bastard for a month." He always said 'month' like 'munth'.

"That obvious?" Deadpan is one of my best skills, honed by years of practice.

"Yeah, that fucking obvious. Whatever it is, and I'd lay money 'it' was on the other end of that call, you've got to put it right. So, who is she? And what did you do?"

I looked at Mac. I looked and thought and thought and looked. What to say? I could talk to him. Or not. He was in the same command structure but not the same service. And frankly, I'd no idea how he felt about the love that shall not speak its name. I could still talk and pretend it was a woman, just leave out the personal pronouns. But that did something to my guts I didn't want to think about. I couldn't do that to Daniel.

And if it was obvious to my second in command, how fucking obvious was it to everyone else? Shit.

"You got the short straw?"

Mac shook his head and combed his long fingers through his dirty blond hair. He's a nice looking guy, if you like the thin, blond, romantic type. But a tougher soldier I'd never served with. Both of us knew how to survive, keep moving, and keep quiet.

"No, mate. But don't get in front of Carter, she'll shoot you and no mistake. So, you've cocked it up with your bit of skirt. That's a crap reason for all this drama. How bad can it be?" he leaned forward in his chair. His blue eyes, hard as chips of ice, drilled me. Don't shit a shitter, they said. Crap. "Jack?" He cocked his head to catch my eye when I looked away.

When I looked back, my stomach took a swan dive towards my feet. It was textbook, the look he had, absolutely textbook. Talk about the light bulb going on. The penny fucking dropping. His eyes widened, just that little bit, then his face shut down and he leaned back in his chair, all lanky unconcern.

"It's like that, is it?" Cagey bastard.

I shrugged and began making doodles on my note pad, pointedly not looking at him. He snorted, then barked out a laugh and shook his head.

"Oh, Jack." He laughed again. "You fucking bastard. Carter's going to kill you." He gave me a filthy grin that quickly melted into a frown. "Why didn't you tell me? I wouldn't say anything, you know that."

"Yeah, I know." What could I say? Hey Mac, guess what? I'm fucking a guy and I screwed it up? I waved my hand around the office and looked at him again. "Don't ask... Besides, I think it's shot. I screwed up."

"Uh, I thought that was the point?" I gave him my pissed off look. He put his hands up in supplication and snorted more laughter. "What happened?"

"Oh, the usual. I was an arrogant bastard, then a class *A* asshole."

"Just being you, eh?" His accent used to be cool. Now I just wanted to punch him.

"Funny." Deadpan was wearing thin.

He shrugged. "So, apologize."

I must've looked at him like he had two heads. He laughed again.

"So this phone thing, working well for you, is it?" Now he's getting nasty. He looked positively evil when he smirked.

"Ha fucking ha. Won't talk to me so how can I apologize?" Okay, that was lame.

"You've got to be kidding." He leaned towards me again, pointing his cig and pinning me with angry eyes.

"Stop lying to yourself, Jack. It's not becoming and it's not like you. You've been a shit. Fine. But don't dick yourself around by letting a little thing like 'no' put you off."

Had to give it to Mac, he didn't beat around the bush.

"And what the fuck're you doing calling from here? We're on leave, in case you haven't noticed so get your ass over there and make it work." And right here all sympathy went from his face and I got a glimpse of the man who'd seen hell.

"And don't come back 'till it's sorted or Carter, Teal'c and I will be asking for transfers. Is that clear?" I think his voice could've carved wood it was so hard.

"Crystal." I watched him stand up and wend his lanky way out of my office, shaking his head. I raised my eyebrows and blew out a breath. He was right. It was time to go.

======

Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

"Who is it?"

"It's me."

"Go away, Jack."

"I want to see you."

"Well, you can't. I'm working."

"Daniel..."

Silence.  
"Just buzz me in, okay?"

"No."

"Please."

Silence.

"Okay, you've got the right to be angry, I'll give you that, but at least let me explain. C'mon. Don't make me stand out here and say it like this."

Silence.

"I was sick. I couldn't tell you why and I couldn't think straight. Dammit, I didn't know what it would do to me or if it would get you sick, too."

Silence.

"Okay, so I was an asshole. No excuses. And yeah, if you want to get technical, I took you for granted. It's not...it wasn't...hell, it's not you, Daniel. It's been a long time for me. Since...no, it doesn't matter now."

Silence.

"I can't...no...I don't want to do without you."

Silence.

"I can. I've been alone a long time and I can do it. But...I don't want to. Please, don't..."

BUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.

I don't remember opening the door or running up the stairs, eight floors of them, or breathing hard or sweating. I remember flying.

=======

"Hey." We stood at his open door, he inside, and I outside.

I'd almost forgotten what his voice does to me when that 'hey' snaked around in my head leaving heat in its wake. And he looked...good. I mean he looked pissed, but good. I shoved my hands in my pockets and tried to look casual, not desperate or needy or just plain pathetic.

"Hey, yourself." The air between us solidified into awkward silence. Opening lines fell through my mind like so many motes of dust, too small or dry or hazy to see or say so I settled for quiet scrutiny. I don't like to think I'm so tied to work that I can't operate outside it, but I fell into it easily as I 'assessed' Daniel; the new haircut, the snug fit of denim over slim hips, and the dark smudges left by sleepless nights, easily seen without the cover of glasses. And something else, a guarded smile, just a sweet turn of lips, no more than that.

He stepped back and I came through the door and followed him to the kitchen. I leaned against the counter, waiting for an opening or a word or some idea from him about what the heck to do. He gathered folders and shut off the laptop and generally kept his hands busy while 'not' looking at me. Okay, this was awkward and now it was getting stupid. Things were hard enough as they stood without us being so thickheaded.

I shifted, edged around the corner of brown tile till I was near enough to touch, waited and when he didn't shift away I put my hand on his arm. I felt his pulse through the tips of my fingers, my thumb brushed across his soft skin and the closed, choked feeling in my chest swelled and pressed up my throat.

I wanted to say something reassuring, but as it turns out I didn't have to. I looked up. His eyes were on me and he had that expression like the first time, on my bed after he'd washed me when I thought he might just leave. I was so wrong to think he'd ever do something like that, something that callous because he was, is, anything but callous. Maybe I'd said the right things after all.

"I missed you." And as suddenly as he said the words he was leaning into me, his lips covered mine and my comfort level went up a few notches 'cause now we were on familiar ground and I could tell him with my mouth and hands all the things it was so hard for me to say in words. There was no gentle, soft preamble; he was all hot, wet and demanding and suddenly this wasn't about me anymore. It was about Daniel; Daniel setting boundaries, Daniel reclaiming territory, Daniel in the driver's seat.

Pretty quick I found myself smashed against the counter with Daniel between my thighs and his quick, clever fingers playing across my skin. Even if I wanted to I couldn't stop him, every part of me was begging; my mouth, my hands, my prick. If the Goa'uld ever found out about Daniel, how they could use him against me, I would be up shit creek because right then I'd've given him anything. And here's where we get to the good part, Daniel's definition of 'anything' and my definition of 'anything.'

I'd like to say I put up a fight. That I drew a line between us about how far I was willing to go and what I was willing to do. I'm hedging, I know, but I hadn't taken it up the ass for over a decade, not since Iraq, and up to that moment it was something I would've sworn I'd never do again. Up to that moment. God I loved topping Daniel. I loved the feel of him below me and watching my dick disappear into his sweet, round ass and listening to him gasp and swear and demand.

It's funny how sometimes what we think is solid, what we've built to be unbreakable, gets blown away like feathery seeds from a dandelion. How the resistance, when it's broken, flies apart so easily. Daniel didn't scare me. And he wasn't rough or insensitive. But he drove. With firm, steady, demanding fingers and an immutable insistent mouth, and I was broken. Only when I broke, it sounded like a sigh.

=======

"Daniel..." I was under him; his wicked mouth working it's way down my belly, his equally wicked fingers raking lines up my thighs. It all felt pretty damn good. Very damn good. I only had a few brain cells still working when his lips wrapped around my dick and they were blaming me caustically for not doing this sooner. For being such a selfish bastard and the rest of that thought dribbled away when his finger slipped into my ass. "oooohhhhh, sweet Jesus...Daniel..."

I wrapped my hands around the spindles of Daniel's headboard; knuckles tight, back arched, ground my ass onto his fingers and begged.

"unnnnghhh...jesus..." his thumb pressed just beneath my balls, another finger slipped in, "GAAAAAAAAAAAWWWD." My toes curled. "Please...pleaseplease," If I'd been able to think, I'd've been afraid. I'd've talked myself out of this, or been frozen with terror or just slugged him. Fire rolled up my back, licking the base of my skull, elegant, prickling, icy fire. I couldn't hear anymore, or see. I only felt; Daniel's hand in my ass, his mouth on my dick, his weight shifting forward, shimmering cold when his mouth left me, his hands covering mine. And the broad, bluntness of his cock.

"Jack..." he slid into me, his voice squeezed to a strained gasp then a big, open-mouthed groan. I knew how he felt except I had no breath to express myself, just a big, swollen vacuum in my chest where my lungs used to be. A moment suspended, hardened, empty except for the shredded sound of Daniel breathing; broken, shallow, swallows of air.

His hands dove under me, under my shoulders, his mouth near my ear, my hands clamped painfully tight on the headboard, every muscle aware, centered on that elemental connection. I'd been ludicrously wrong, stupidly bull-headedly stupendously wrong when I'd fought so hard not to do this. Not to let Daniel do this to me. With me.

My breath skittered out, pushed past the lump in my throat, only to draw raggedly in on the first gentle thrust. Just a little movement, more like a tilt of his hips but it sent a quivery snake of pleasure through my belly. For one dizzy moment I smelt the stink, felt the cold, gagging fear from so long ago but the warmth of Daniel's body, the small indistinct words that filled my ear, my own desire put paid to that old dragon. What I wanted was here now. No more running. No more hiding. Only more Daniel.

"More..." I dropped one shaky hand to his shoulder, I wanted him to hear me, and I needed to see him. "Daniel..." And suddenly I let go. I let go of the bed and my breath and the cramped set of my muscles. His head came up and I just knew, looking at him, being looked at, that this was it. And he fucked me so sweetly, with such gorgeous abandon, long and smooth and deep. I came long before he did, right after I let go, in fact. It rushed in to fill the void left by fear and I arched and fell away into it, each long, hot stroke drawing it out, making me ache.

And then I got to watch him take me. He was so deft, every move or shift meant to prolong his pleasure and mine. There was no rush and when, finally, he let himself climax, I held him, shaking and sweating.

It's amazing how feeling so much can feel like feeling nothing. Everything was there in a weird, tangled skein of thoughts but no words offered themselves to help me out. This was outside my standard vocabulary, outside the expected requirements, not a part of my brief.

The rasp of his chin on my neck and shoulder, his small movements, his soft cock slipping out of me, shifting as if to move away. But I wasn't ready to let go. I made a small noise, tightened my hold and was rewarded with lavish eyes and a kiss- bruised mouth and barefaced vulnerability that matched my own.

He was so satisfyingly long against me, his long back and long, long legs and when he kissed me, it was as an equal. No adjustment required or wanted. He kissed me as he fucked me, slow and long and sweet and when we came apart he rested his forehead on mine, eyes closed and just breathed my breath.

=====

It was after the shower. After the condom was thrown away and the sheets changed. Long after the food was ordered by Daniel from a local Italian place, his voice a husky song of lilting Italian. It was while we waited together on the sofa, the broad expanse of his back resting on my chest, hips settled between my thighs, in his room looking at Colorado Springs through fog-tinted windows.

There would have to be talk. I knew that. I knew Daniel had something to say, I could see the wheels turning, could practically see the smoke floating from his ears. What that would consist of was anybody's guess but for now I was content to let him simmer. I had what I wanted and now that I knew that, I was okay with letting talk happen on his terms. My mind wandered, skipping over the last hours, and the last minutes. I spent a little time wondering what we'd be eating, though if I was right, it might be a little green rubber figure cause it sounded an awful lot like Daniel'd said 'gumbi.'

"What is 'gumbi' anyway?"

"Hmmm? Oh, it's uh, rigatoni with butter, Parmesan, mushrooms, meatballs and sauce. Why?"

"Isn't' that what you ordered?"

"Uh, yeah. You speak Italian?"

"No. Just wanted to be sure we weren't eating little green rubber guys."

Daniel snorted with laughter. It was an easy, soft vibration that ran up my legs and through my groin, making me very aware of the man in my lap.

"Just so long as there's no 'pokey' marinara." I added and Daniel opened up, laughing louder.  
"No, I promise. No pokey marinara, just Gumbi, killer antipasto and garlic bread. Hope you're hungry."

The tingly vibration of his laughter still resonated in me, so yeah, I was definitely hungry. I kissed his neck, right behind his ear, and down the sloping curve to his shoulder. Soft, lingering, open mouthed kisses, the kind I seldom took time for in the past. It was bliss. That lingering, tempting, sated feeling I'd been trying to name floated up suddenly and I realized how good Daniel was at creating it. Or how he made a space and invited it in. And if nothing before had softened me, that would have been enough. As it was, I was so changed I wasn't sure I could recognize myself.

There was a soft bell heralding the food and a chill swept over me when Daniel got up to retrieve it. It gave me time to think and assess myself, my physical self, to determine the changes. My chest, my arms and belly and soft, sated cock all looked the same. What I couldn't see, my ass, my achy hole, my back, felt like a rumor spread through my body but not believed. It was a rumor I wanted confirmed.

"Okay if we eat alfresco?" Daniel set a delicious smelling carton on the coffee table with a handful of napkins and silverware. Hunger banished thought.

The cartons lay open and we were swamped with moist, garlic-tainted aromas and there was a little table ballet while we arranged forks and napkins and bottles of beer and then dug into the flat open tray of 'Gumbi'.

"Jesus." It was either obscenely good or I was so hungry it didn't matter.

"Yeah. Not bad." Daniel tore off large chunks of hot, crunchy, fragrant bread and handed one to me.

"Not bad?" I shoveled another load in. And after I swallowed, "It's almost as good as sex." Which brought a wry, wicked grin to Daniel's face.

"I like this you." His look had softened and an eyebrow went up.

I'd been concentrating on getting my fair share of Gumbi when it hit me what he was saying. 'This me?'

"As opposed to what exactly?"

"Oh, you know, the arrogant, self-centered, bastard you."  
I eyed him over the food.

"Uhmmm, huh." I contemplated more Gumbi. And bread. And made a pass at the antipasto as well, before replying. "You liked that me well enough at O'Malley's. And a few more times that night as I recall. Bastardness and all."

He toyed with antipasto. More smoke curls drifted from his ears. An idea occurred to me.

"Is it because you topped me?"

He looked up, a quick measured look, intense, focused.

"No. It's not that." He looked down, across the table, shifted uncomfortably then looked at me again. "Just, more relaxed I guess."

I'll fuckin' say. I picked up a napkin and leaned over the table like I was going to wipe something off his face. I did wipe something off his face. Doubt. We tasted like food. He tasted like Daniel.

Later, we ate the rest of the Gumbi, cold.

Ain't love grand?


	5. Amizade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (My Original header for this fic. 2020)
> 
> Title: Amizade  
> Author: fra  
> Feedback and Author website: AO3  
> Rating: PG-13 for graphic M/M sex and sex talk.  
> Pairing: Jack/Daniel  
> Category: Established Relationship  
> Date: 12/24/2003  
> Status: Complete  
> Series: Massage Series, part five.
> 
> Series: Massage Series, part five.  
> Seasons/Spoilers: AU, Just after Absolute Power, which happens to Jack instead of Daniel. Archive; Area 52, others please ask first.

Seasons/Spoilers: AU, Just after Absolute Power, which happens to Jack instead of Daniel. Archive; Area 52, others please ask first.  
Synopsis: Sam opened the Gate, no archaeologists go on front line teams and the fourth member of SG-1 is Andy McNabb (Sean Bean from the Bio Pic). And Englishman, Dr. Thomas Angelsey, runs the archaeology department in conjunction with British Intelligence, MI 5. Half the SG Teams are made up of SAS and the other half are a mix of US servicemen.

Notes: Thanks to my beta readers, Stasha, Pepper and Beth. Without them this would be in the trash. This plot bunny will not die and has been heavily influenced by Queer as Folk, (US). If it seems harsh and short and animalistic, well, that’s because it is. They are, after all, guys. Though things do change, isn’t it always the way?   
Amizade is Portuguese for ‘Friends’.  
Warnings: Bad language, a little smarm. Oh yeah, and Paul.

Disclaimer:   
Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/Viacom/MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, And Gekko Productions. I do not own the characters and indeed am only playing with them for a little while. I’m not making money from this and I’m still paying for everything I own so there’s little point in suing me. Not copyright infringement whatsoever is intended. The original characters, situations and story are mine. Please check with me first if you want to archive or link to this story.

/////////////////////////

Amizade  
Fra  
2003

_  
Chirp. Chirp. Chirp._

_“Hi, it’s Daniel. Leave your number and I’ll call you back.”_

_“Hi, this is Paul Davis. I got your number from Todd. 555-9954. That’s my cell. Thanks.”  
_

Later----------------

_  
Chirp. Chirp. Chirp._

_“Davis.”_

_“Hi, Paul…this is Daniel Jackson, returning your call.”_

_“Great, Thanks for calling back.”_

_“No problem, what can I do for you?”_

_“Well, I was hoping to get an appointment this week, do you have any space?”_

_“Got your calendar?”_

_“Yup.”_

_“What’s your schedule like?”_

_“Providing there are no complications, I have Thursday later afternoon, Friday midday or Saturday. Um, do you work weekends?”_

_“No. Complications? Are you on the Base?”_

_“Yeah, but only off and on. I’m in D.C. half the time.”_

_“Okay, let’s try Friday, one o’clock. Does that suit?”_

_“Okay, Friday thirteen hundred.”_

_“Do you have a place, or do you want to come here?”_

_“I should probably plan to come there. Where are you?”_

_“508 Water Street, Eighth floor, apartment C.”_

_“Great, thanks for calling me back Daniel. I’m looking forward to it.”_

_“See you then.”_

_End Call._

_//////////////////_

_Friday, oh-nine-hundred._

__  
Chirp. Chirp. Chirp._ _

__“Jackson.”_ _

__“Hey.”_ _

__“Hey yourself.”_ _

__“One hour.”_ _

__“Hmmm…what?”_ _

__“I’ll be there. In one hour.”_ _

__“Jaaaack.”_ _

__“You said to warn you. I’m warning you. Clear your book, I’ll be there in one hour.”_ _

__“No.”_ _

__“Excuse me? No?”_ _

__“No. I can meet you at two at the earliest, after my last client. I’ll see you then, Jack.”_ _

__“High maintenance.”_ _

__“Mmmm, hmmmm. But so worth it.”_ _

__Snort._ _

__“Okay, two oh five. Pack a bag.”_ _

__End Call._ _

__

__//////////////////////_ _

__Friday, Fourteen-hundred hours_ _

__“Paul Davis?”_ _

__“Jack.”_ _

__“Can’t you do it without touching him?”_ _

__“He’s a client, Jack. How did you know? Are you spying on me now?”_ _

__Jack snorted, rolling his eyes. Of course, he ignored any culpability._ _

__We’d rammed into another boundary of mine; clients don’t get to know about other clients. Paul worked at the Mountain. Jack worked at the Mountain. Jack was being territorial, possessive, and unreasonable. In other words, he was being Jack._ _

__“I touch people for a living, Jack. Is that going to be a problem?” I closed my laptop, neatly stacked the day’s files, slid them into my bag and walked around the bar to his side._ _

__“You think I fuck all my clients?” That rocked him back on his heel. “Well? You think because I jerked you off, then let you fuck me that I let Paul fuck me, too?”_ _

__Pain flicked across his face, his chin dipped, and he blew out a breath._ _

__“Daniel…”_ _

__“What’s it going to take, Jack?”_ _

__He blinked. “What?”_ _

__“What is it going to take? Flowery declarations? Impassioned promises? Want me to marry you? Maybe a tattoo on my a…”_ _

__“Yes.”_ _

__“…s, what?” My brain stumbled to a dead stop._ _

__“What?”_ _

__“Yes, what?”_ _

__“The third one.”_ _

__“The thir…Jack.” Huh? What? Are you…”Are you asking me…?”_ _

__“Yes.”_ _

__“Uh,”_ _

__“Articulate, as always.”_ _

__“Christ, Jack.”_ _

__“No, just Jack. We should go.”_ _

__“Go?”_ _

__“Daniel, will you please stop repeating everything I say? Grab your bag,” he looked at his watch, “plane leaves in ninety minutes.”_ _

__/////////////////_ _

__Mountain Village, Telluride, Colorado._ _

__Evening._ _

__This was un-fucking-believable. I was reduced to swear words, lots of them, streaming through my mind. English ones and French ones and even some really good Arabic ones. No one swears like Arabs. Beautiful. But I digress. Let’s begin at the beginning with Jack fucking O’Neill.  
Easily the most self -centered, arrogant, demanding, presumptuous bastard it has ever been my misfortune to meet. Not so long ago, three months to be exact, he was a fantasy, client and all-around nice guy. And now? Now?_ _

__Well, now, I stood looking out the window of our room in Telluride, waiting for said Colonel to finish his ablutions before going to dinner. Where we will talk about what he asked me. An he’ll ask me again. What the hell am I going to say?”_ _

__Am I putting up too much of a fuss?_ _

__Should I just swoon romantically into his arms and let him sweep me away? If only it were that easy. Of course, like most things in my life, it’s nowhere near that easy. Shaunna killed. Sarah just completely disappeared off the face of the earth. I expect to read about her remains being found in the Rockies sometime in the next millennium. And that’s just the women._ _

__I didn’t realize how comfortable I’d gotten without someone. I’d had Andy in the apartment and my friends, both platonic and…not. And for a very long time, five years, that’s been more than good enough. Now I had ‘someone’. I should be happy. God, it’s what we all talk about, finding a partner, boyfriend, what ever. So if it’s so desirable, why did I feel so skittish?_ _

__Maybe I should just chuck it all and become Mrs. Jack O’Neill. Quit my job, sub-let my apartment stay home and decorate. No, of course not. No staying at his house. It may not say ‘Colonel’ on his uniform, but he still was one and that meant no gay partners._ _

__And there’s the little matter of familiarity. Oh, he’s familiar, it’s not that. It’s that I don’t know anything about him, really, nor he me. Beside the odd factoid I’ve picked up over the years, that is. And he just…annoys the shit out of me. A lot. He Assumes. And he’s pushy and so very very alpha. I bet if you looked up Alpha in the dictionary, there’d be a photo of Jack. He’s such a fucking top. And I’ve just let myself become a total bottom, for fucks’ sake._ _

__Hmmm, yeah, we should talk about changing that. But I have a feeling I’m going to have to use restraints._ _

__God, if Wade were here he’d snort and say, ‘here’s a quarter, Daniel, buy yourself a backbone.’ Then he’d twist his gorgeous mouth in an annoyed little moue and finish with his personal mantra, ‘Now, let’s party.’ Ahh, Wade. My gorgeous, sexy, untamed first. Life’s so easy when all you have to do is party._ _

__Well, he’d’ve been right._ _

__It was time for backbone. Time I started setting boundaries, goals, limits…_ _

__“Nice view?” Jack purred in my ear, slid warm arms around my waist, and pressed his dick against my ass. He smelled deliciously of soap and aftershave._ _

__“Mmmm.” And it was nice. Magnificent jagged granite mountains topped with a thick frosting of snow. Mellow golden streetlights spread across the little valley towards Telluride. Twilight shadows turning the snow lavender and purple. Just luck a damn postcard._ _

__“So, what time is our reservation?” I murmured._ _

__“Nine,” he said, breath whispering across my ear._ _

__“Mmmm. Two hours.” Hello boner, good-bye backbone!_ _

__////////////////////_ _

__“Coffee?”_ _

__“That would be ‘yes’.”_ _

__Jack turned to the server, held up two fingers and smiled._ _

__“May I bring the desert tray?” The waiter said quietly._ _

__I’m stuffed and there is just no way I could fit another thing in. Besides, I have to watch my boyish figure. But Jack nods and it’s all I can do not to laugh out loud._ _

__“How can you even think of more food?”_ _

__“Fast metabolism. Also, the Crème Brulè here is…” He made a little chef’s kiss with his mouth in a ridiculous moue and his fingers just so._ _

__The server disappeared silently, and we spent a moment arranging spoons and napkins in the wake of our meal.  
I looked out the window at the blue snow landscape and tried to remember why I’d felt so awkward about this. If Jack was trying to sweep me off my feet, he was doing a damn good job of it. We sat in companionable silence. Quiet. Steady. Comfortable. And I really liked Jack for that. That he felt safe enough to just sit quietly with me. And I him. That had to mean something, didn’t it? Maybe one could make a relationship out of sex and quiet moments. Did I really have to be a soul bearing sapfest? If this was the result, then I’d have to say the answer was a resounding, YES._ _

__Our server picked this moment to return with a rolling cart filled with assorted coffee arcana and a tray of delectable looking pastries. I groaned._ _

__“Try this, it’s almost better than sex.” Jack picked out a small dish which the server obediently put in front of me. I groaned._ _

__“Do you even care if I want dessert? You are such an…”_ _

__“Arrogant bastard. I know. How can I forget? You won’t let me. Just try it for crying out loud.”_ _

__I nodded to the server as he poured coffee and slipped away down the hall.”_ _

__“So , what is this exactly?” I poked at the delicate tower of chocolate on the small white plate._ _

__“It’s a chocolate box. Try it.” Jack focused on his crème brulé, holding the spoon upside down, tapping the crust gently, in the French way. I felt a hand close around my heart and squeeze. Dichotomy thy name is Jack. His long, battle scarred hands, holding the little silver spoon, tapping the caramel crust._ _

__Everything about him was a clash of opposites. My mind began to fill with oxymorons: military delicacy or tender alpha or even fathomless mirror._ _

__“You don’t like it? He pointed with his spoon, snapping me back to the now._ _

__“Um, I haven’t tried it yet,”_ _

__I looked back down at the little box and tried to collect myself. Okay, this is chocolate. I do chocolate. It really was a lovely little thing, two inches square with a top set off the center sitting on a cloud of crème anglaise, raspberries clustered tastefully to the side._ _

__I wedged my spoon under the square chocolate top and lifted it up, catching it with my fingers. It was empty. Well, not empty._ _

__It._ _

__It._ _

__It…had a ring in it. It had a fucking ring in it. A fucking ring, for Christ’s sake! I just…I could not fucking believe it. Fuck. How fucking sappy is that.? What was I even thinking, I knew this was coming from a mile away. Knew when we got through dinner on our usual banter with no mention of ‘the question.’ Or its’ repercussions. I panicked, mind filling with useless swear words. Again. And crap, I’m not alone at this table. This is not happening in a bubble. I’m sitting across from Jack. Fuck. Okay, here we go…_ _

__“I…”_ _

__“Yes or no, Daniel. Its only me or no me.”_ _

__Fucking bastard._ _

__“Yes.”_ _

__////////////////////////_ _

__“It says ‘sweet.’”_ _

__“Yeah.”_ _

__“In hieratic.”_ _

__“Hmmm…”_ _

__“Jack…how…I’m…”_ _

__“Speechless?”_ _

__“Basically.”_ _

__“Sweet.” He smiled. Not the big ‘laugh at the Simpson’s smile. More like the ‘I’m going to get so lucky smile.’ “Put it on.”_ _

__I don’t know why it never crossed my mind to do that. I held it between my thumb and forefinger, stomach churning, heart hamming, just looking at it. This was not some abstract thing I could talk around like living together or knowing more about each other than how we like to fuck. This was the whole other ballpark, the one outside my current ballpark. Putting it on was a lot more of a challenge than I thought._ _

__When I’d said yes, what had been going through my mind?_ _

__‘Only me or now me’. That’s what._ _

__Okay, those words had come back to bite me in the butt. All I wanted when I’d said them to Jack was re-assurance that we were exclusive. Not…married. Just, you know, no more buddy fucks. Or steam bath cruising. Or club hopping. Well, that’s what it meant to me. It came down to this, put up or shut up, because I didn’t want ‘no him’ and I was pretty sure I didn’t want ‘no him’ for the next twenty years or so._ _

__“Daniel? You said ‘yes’. Not second guessing, are you?” he said. He was looking at me , chin in hand, elbow on table with that smile still on his face._ _

__“Back with me?” he drawled._ _

__Bastard! He was enjoying my struggle. I stilled. That was why. That right there. He could see me. Me. How I worked, and he just sat there patiently waiting for me to come around. This is what I wanted, and I’d never been surer in my whole life._ _

__“You do it.” I held the ring out and watched his hand come up. Time slowed. My gaze went from the ring to his face. He looked shy and a little wistful but still smiling. His cool fingers took my hand and I felt the small slip of metal settle on my finger and the heavy reality of it settle in my heart._ _

__His fingers lingered for just a moment, caressed the back of my hand, then he took it back. Jack was not a hand holder, didn’t do PDA’s discreet or otherwise. But I could see desire flicker on his face, felt its’ twin flicker through me and my pants got tight. Suddenly, there was too much stuff between us. Table, clothes, air._ _

__“Let’s get out of here.” Jack’s voice had dropped to a sexy rasp._ _

__“Now,” was all I could manage._ _

__We stood up; eyes still on each other, but instead of turning to go down the hall, Jack reached across the small space and drew me into the circle of his arms, pressing his whole long body against me._ _

__“Daniel, “he said. He looked at me closely, his gaze wandering from my eyes to my lips and back. His hand cupped my face and he brushed his lips across mine, the barest whisper of a kiss. I sighed when his lips left mine, tried to lean into it, wanting more, harder. I brought my own hand up mirroring his and kissed him back. I felt his arms tighten, felt his mouth open to me, his tongue teasing and clashing with mine. He lt me kiss him till I back off, panting and hot._ _

__“Home, now,” he growled._ _

__And we went._ _

__****_ _


End file.
